


Fooling Around

by Catherine_Toast



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Facials, Oral Sex, Smut, daryl is kind of an asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-20 17:40:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1519469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catherine_Toast/pseuds/Catherine_Toast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl and Beth smut.</p>
<p>Immediately follows "Still"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Can't Sleep

“Daryl?”

“Hmm?”

“I can't sleep.” He turned his head to face her. Her eyes were bright and clear, and reflected the dim light like a doe's. He said nothing. Her hand reached out over him and trailed lightly against his side. He sighed. He was tired and cranky, and didn't particularly want to be touched. 

It had been a long night, and after they'd burned down the shitty ass house with the moonshine shed they'd walked for miles before crashing in dirty room in an old motel. It wasn't much, but it was on the second floor, and the window was boarded up and the door was metal with a strong deadbolt. They'd be safe for the night. He'd fallen wearily into the sagging double bed next to Beth, with the vague hope of uninterrupted sleep. Beth seemed to have other ideas.

“Do you wanna fool around?” she whispered, her little hand finding an exposed patch of skin between his shirt and his pants and stroking it. He perked up, like a cat hearing a can opener. It was an unexpected request, though not unwanted. So many times that night he had been nearly overcome by the urge to pin her down and fuck her senseless, but he'd wrestled his demons and given her space, vowing to not creep out the young girl by turning the situation into something sexual. But if she came to him, well, that was different, wasn't it? He looked at her properly then, her wide eyes and pale skin, and a mess of blonde hair sticking out in every direction.

“Yeah,” he said, low and gravely. “ Alright.” And then he just waited, not sure if she was serious, while she shimmied closer. She lightly pressed her lips against his. She tasted like moonshine, and he had to wonder how much alcohol was still swimming in her veins, and if it might be dictating her actions. Fuck it. He didn't care.

The kiss was sweet at first, an innocent exploring, but damn it, it had been so long since he had been with a woman. He didn't remember them being so soft and warm, and his body hummed with desire and moonshine. Oh yes, he missed this more than he had realized, and he quickly turned the kiss into something hot and heavy. It was forceful and demanding, his hand tangled in her hair.

His tongue explored the sweet wetness in her mouth and something primal inside him swung his leg over her, shifting him so he was nearly on top of her. He pressed her down against the mattress. She tensed under him and broke the kiss. He waited again, sure she was about to rescind the offer. He had gone too fast and he would be left hot and frustrated. He cursed inwardly.

“I just. . . I don't want to get pregnant,” she said quickly, her lips red and swollen. He grunted in agreement. Yeah, that wouldn't be smart. 

But it wasn't a no. It wasn't a no, so he tugged up at the bottom of her shirt, grunting again. She giggled. “Okay, okay, but did you hear me?” she asked, letting him pull the shirt off over her head. His cock thrummed appreciatively at the sight of her breasts, and he dove for them, taking a nipple in his mouth and sucking like a greedy infant. At that she made a sweet whimpering sound that caused his dick to press hard against the inside of his jeans. He returned to his mouth to hers, rutting his crotch against her thigh. Her hands pushed at his vest and his shirt, and he removed them quickly. “Daryl, did you hear what I said?” she repeated breathlessly, propping herself up on her elbows.

“Ain't gonna get you pregnant,” he rumbled, nipping at her neck and collarbone. “Gonna lick your pussy.” He had decided on it as he said it, and was suddenly filled with overwhelming urge to put his face between her thighs and taste her. When he saw the shocked look on her face he felt bad that his words were so coarse. He didn't know the words for girls like Beth. He didn't possess the vocabulary. But he got the message through clear enough, and a blush rose in her cheeks.

“Oh,” she said, as he roughly tugged off her boots. He was unbuttoning her pants, pulling them down over her hips when she'd reached out her hand to stop him. “Daryl, I'm not clean. . .”

“Don't matter,” he rumbled, with such conviction she moved her hand away and lifted her hips to help him slide her pants down and off. She was naked then, except her thin panties. Her pale skin was shining in the fractured moonlight. She tensed, and looked away from him shyly. He knew she was feeling exposed, and he returned to her lips, his body half covering hers, skin hot against skin, until she relaxed beneath him. He let his hand trail up her thigh, pushed his thumb between her legs, urging her to open them. After some hesitation she did and he rubbed his thumb across the panties, along her slit, feeling her jolt under him when he brushed the sweet spot. Emboldened, he slid two fingers under the cloth. She was so wet it startled him. “Jesus girl! You could drown a puppy in them panties!” he exclaimed with a grin. She gave him a look of confusion.

“Is that bad?”

“Nah, just means you're horny as hell,” he said, laughing, as he quickly pulled off her panties. There was no use in going slow now. She was clearly ready and willing. He moved himself low between her legs, lifting one to kiss her inner thigh, and spreading her legs wider. She was propped on her elbows, watching him, looking excited and terrified, as his fingers spread her wide open, and his mouth enclosed around her most private area. No, she wasn't clean. She tasted like sweat and dirt and the Georgia woods. It was intoxicating. He went straight for the clit with his tongue, and she cried out loudly enough that he stopped his ministrations to shush her. She nodded and he replaced his mouth, swirling his tongue around her engorged clitoris. She bit her bottom lip, and rocked against him, making little moaning sounds. 

Sweet Jesus.

He slid a dirty finger inside her. She was so very tight and so very wet. His dick throbbed, and withdrew for a moment to adjust himself inside his constrictive jeans. He went right back in with two fingers, wondering if anyone had been inside her before. He doubted it. She was so tight, and so nervous and unsure. It turned him on all the more.

He so wanted to slide his dick inside that sweet virgin space, but he didn't dare try it. He didn't dare ask if he could stick it in, just a little bit, just for a minute. Instead he fucked her with his fingers and massaged her with his tongue.

As he worked he stared at her hungrily, and watched her lose herself in the sensations. She grabbed one of her own breasts and fondled it, all self-consciousness gone. She breathed swear words and dirty words and used the Lord's name in ways he knew her daddy wouldn't have approved of, until at the last, arching her back, and grinding herself against his face she screamed “DARYL!” Her muscles clamped down around his fingers he thought wryly that her daddy wouldn't have approved of using his name that way either. 

Fingers still inside her, feeling the spasms ebb, he moved upward and kissed her, hard and desperate. He withdrew his fingers, unbuttoned his pants and wrapped his hand around his own need, using the slick wetness from her sated pussy to lubricate his own frantic motions.

There was something dirty about this, an old man hovering over a young girl's nude body, stroking himself, but he didn't care, and wasn't about to stop even if he did. He came quickly, splattering sticky semen across her abdomen and thighs. He collapsed half on top of her, planting a couple of wet kisses on her temple as he maneuvered onto his side to keep from crushing her. “You ok?” he panted hoarsely.

“Mmm-hmm.” Her eyes were miles away, her brow furrowed, as if trying to process her own thoughts.

He realized then, that maybe her teenage concept of “fooling around” had run more toward making out and an awkward grope at her breasts, and not a grown man's face in her vagina and ropes of semen across her belly. 

He pulled a pillowcase off a rogue pillow and handed it to her. She sat up and wiped they stickiness off of herself. Daryl rolled halfway off the edge of the bed, digging in his pack to find cigarettes. He laid on his back, puffing smoke into the dingy room as he watched her fumble with her clothes. Once dressed, she returned to the bed, and lay down on her back next to him. She was present, but not quite touching him.

“You're not supposed to do that, you know.” she said to the ceiling in the darkness.

“Do what?” he asked between puffs. “Go down on an underage girl? I know that.” He smiled to himself.

“I meant smoking in bed. You're not supposed to smoke in bed. It could start a fire.” He winced and bit back a venomous retort. She didn't know that he knew better than anyone what a smoldering cigarette on a mattress could do. “And I'm not underage,” she added, “I must have had a birthday by now. I'm 18. Or really close, anyway.”

“Well if the cops ask say you're 18,” he joked sleepily.

“Okay. I will. I promise.” She smiled for just a moment, then her face became serious again. She rolled onto her side, curling against him. 

Damn it, why did women always have to be so clingy? Still, it wasn't so bad. He couldn't quite mind her warm little body pressed up next to his, with her hand laid flat on his bare chest. There was a raspy sound, and a scratch at the door. “There's a walker outside.” She said flatly.

“Wouldn't be surprised if there was a whole herd, with all that noise you were making.” He planted a kiss on the top of her head as he butted out the cigarette on the bedside table. “Don't worry, they can't get in.”

“Wasn't my fault” she said indignantly, her fingers absently tracing circles lightly across his chest, “I couldn't help it.” And Daryl smiled as he drifted off to sleep.

He awoke much later than usual, the sun already high in the sky. He pissed in a corner and roused her from sleep. “C'mon let's get moving,” he said, pulling on his shirt and slinging the crossbow over his shoulder. “We're burning daylight.”


	2. Debauched

Well, shit.

He wouldn't have minded so much if after that night she had just gone quiet, silently hating him. Or even if she had yelled at him - that wouldn't have been so bad. She could have gotten her feelings out and he could have reminded her that it was her idea and eventually they would clear the air. But this was so much worse.

Beth had been at his side for days, smiling widely, trying to hold his hand, trying to touch his arm, trying to shimmy up close to him by the campfire, cuddling close into him at night. She was a little lovesick puppy. It made her look young, immature, and that was the last thing he needed right now. 

Besides, it had to be 110 degrees and he was sweating his balls off and she kept getting too close. “Beth it's too damn hot to hold hands!” he finally snapped as he felt her hand press into his.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “Can't we find a creek or pond something? We could cool off. We could go skinny dipping!” at this she rose up on her toes and clutched his bicep.

“This ain't no summer camp, and I ain't your boyfriend,” he said sharply, shaking her off of him. “You need to stop playing around and start worrying about staying alive.”

“Is that what we were doing the other night, in the motel? Playing?”

“It was a mistake, Beth. We were both lit. Shouldn'ta happened. Let's just forget about it.”

She looked wounded. 

“Why are you acting like this? After I gave myself to you!”

He scoffed. “We never fucked, Beth. And you didn't do nothin' for me. Now I ain't complainin', but don't act like you did something amazing when all you did was lay there and get your pussy licked.”

“Is that your problem? You don't feel like you got yours?”

“No, that's not-”

“Come on then,” she said, angrily shoving him back against a tree. “I'm not a little girl! I can give as good as I get.” She nuzzled into his neck, licking a kissing the sweaty skin at his pulse point. One hand reached down and cupped his crotch through his dirty pants.

“Beth, stop,” he said, but any conviction in his tone was canceled out by the ragged gasp he drew as her palm rubbed firmly against his manhood.

“C'mon, Daryl, tell me what you want. Tell me what you want me to do to you and I'll do it.” Her blue-gray eyes met his. He stared at her face. Her sweet innocent face, all big eyes and pink little mouth. His hand cupped her jaw, and he traced his thumb over her lips. He was hit with a sudden carnal desire to take her up on the offer, to debauch that angel face. He licked his lips and closed his eyes. He tried to steady himself, feeling the waves of heat in the air and the sweet friction of her small hand.

Damn it.

“Get on your knees,” he demanded, somehow already half hard and overcome by the lust rising in his blood. 

Her face flashed shock, and she stammered out “w-what?” He smirked. The girl was all talk, and it only fueled his desire to do lecherous things to her.

“On your knees, girl,” he growled. She opened her mouth, as if to voice an objection, but then shut it again and clumsily lowered herself down. She sat back on her heels and watched as he unbuckled his belt. She nervously bit her lip as he undid his pants and pulled out his semi-hard cock. He stroked himself a few times as she watched, with a hint fearfulness in her expression that made the blood rush to his rapidly hardening member. “C'mon then,” he said, voice dark with arousal.

She drew herself up on her knees, reaching out a hand for him. “Uh-uh,” he said, slapping her hand away. “No hands.” She took a deep breath, and closed her eyes for a moment, finally opening them and leaning forward, until her lips brushed the head of his cock. “That's it girl,” he said, still working the shaft, “give it a kiss.” She kissed it lightly, and he smirked. “Now lick.” Her tongue darted out and she lapped at him clumsily. “Now suck,” he demanded, and she took the head in her wet mouth, and he felt her sweet suction. He tangled a hand in her hair, and gently pushed her toward him, forcing more of his dick into her mouth. “Can you take all of me? Huh? Show me you're not a little girl. Show me...” he had more to say, but the words were lost as a sensation of pure pleasure overtook him as she gobbled him up, her lips nearly at the base of him, his tip pushing against the sponginess of her throat. He moaned in appreciation.

He curled his fingers tighter in her hair, pulling her head back out along his shaft, and slamming her back against him again. “Like this,” he breathed hard, repeating the motion. She did it again on her own and he swore in appreciation. “Use your tongue,” he pleaded, and he felt it swirl on his tip when she pulled back again, and then take his length inside her mouth once more. “Yeah, that's it, that's it.” He felt his knees tremble, and a needy moan passed his lips.

Another moan echoed in the forest, but it wasn't coming from him. She stilled, as they both heard the walker moving in the trees behind her. “Don't stop,” he breathed, holding tight onto her hair so she couldn't pull off of him. She tentatively resumed her motions as he let her go, using both his hands to remove the crossbow that still hung over his shoulder.

He raised the weapon, an arrow already cocked and at the ready as she continued to bob her head up and down his cock. He saw the undead woman stumble out from the trees and he tried to steady his breathing, lining him up his sights. “Ohhhh, fuck,” he moaned, as she felt Beth's tongue press on the underside of his shaft. The walker surged forward, her bloody mouth eager to feast on his flesh, a twisted version of the girl on his knees before him, taking his hard member into her mouth.

He let an arrow fly, and it hit the shuffling figure dead in the eye, and it slumped to the ground, unmoving.

He recklessly let his crossbow fall to the ground, closing his eyes, head falling back against the tree, his legs threatening to buckle. He lost himself in the sensations as she bobbed along his shaft again and again. “Faster,” he grunted, not even sure that the word was coherent enough for her to understand. He was so close. His hand found her hair once more and he pulled her roughly off of him, using his other hand to grasp himself and jerk wildly, mere inches from her face. “Look at me,” he rasped, using his hold on her to tilt her head back and up, her eyes meeting his. “Keep your eyes open,” he demanded. He came hard, splattering her face with his cum, milky and white on her pale skin, catching in her eyelashes and running down one cheek. It dripped from her lips and he marveled at the sight. He let go of himself and held her face with both hands, staring hard, memorizing the way she looked with his cum coating her innocent features.

Finally, he released her, fixing his pants and picking up the discarded crossbow. He handed her a rag from his pocket, and she wiped herself off as best she could, while he retrieved his arrow from the skull of the dead walker. He heard another raspy moan from somewhere in the distance. “C'mon,” he said, jerking his head to indicated they needed to keep moving. She stood and brushed the dirt from her knees, falling into step beside him as they walked into the woods.

Her hand brushed against his, and he reluctantly conceded, interlacing his fingers with hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! Sorry it's so short. Thanks for the comments and kudos on the last chapter that spurred me on to write this! Yes it will be a trilogy, and yes comments make me write faster!
> 
> Oh, and go read my work entitled "From a Distance" It's a Bethyl fic, even though it's not ;)


	3. Stop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guilt pierced Daryl's stomach like an arrow every time he thought about what he had done to Beth...  
> ...and what he continued to do.

Guilt pierced Daryl's stomach like an arrow everytime he thought about what he had done to Beth...  
...and what he continued to do.

This nice young thing, so innocent and wide eyed, had been his responsibility, his charge. 

And he was using her. He was using her to get off every night nearly, whenever they could find a safe place to sleep, and sometimes even if they couldn't. She let him do what he wanted with her, let him cum on her tits, let him straddle her shoulders and fuck her face. She'd even touched herself while he watched. Daryl liked that a lot. He liked seeing her spread her legs and rub herself. She had been reluctant to do it at first. But he convinced her easily, with an expectant half-smile, the same way he could convince her to do anything it seemed. Well, except letting him put his dick inside her.  
She was terrified of getting pregnant, and he had to admit that it would be better to not take the chance. Still, sometimes when he was hard and horny and that tight little cunt was so close he could smell it (and taste it) he had a hard time restraining himself.

"C'mon Beth I'll pull out, I swear. I done it plenty back in the day, and I ain't never knocked up a girl," he pleaded. But Beth was an educated woman, and she knew all kinds of stuff about the biology he didn't, and he couldn't argue his way past it. So they kept on, finding what they could, raiding houses and hunting and scavenging food, and at night getting his rocks off with her teenage body.

He kept waiting for her to stop him. He kept waiting for her to become defiant and angry at him, and to challenge the way he was treating her. But she just seemed to get more and more obedient, like she had no idea at all that this wasn't normal. That this wasn't good. She still smiled the sweetest smiles at him. It was like she was in love with him.

He always swore to himself he was gonna stop. He was gonna stop all this disgusting shit and go back to treating her like Hershel's youngest daughter and not like a used up whore. But an hour or two of laying next to her warm skin in the dark night made his skin crawl like he was coming off smack cold turkey. He always gave in.  
In a makeshift camp in the woods he got her down on her knees and pulled down her pants just far enough to allow him to rut between her thighs from behind. He humped her mercilessly, reveling in the sweet friction of her soft flesh. He could feel the heat radiating from her cunt, God how easy it would be to just angle himself a little bit, to just slip inside a little bit, to feel that tight heat around him.  
They were sweaty and dirty and they both stank to high heaven. They'd been wearing the same clothes for weeks, pissing and shitting in the woods and killing rotting corpses. He didn't care, he was used to the sweat and the dirt and the stink. He pushed her shirt up and felt her tits as he dry humped her. He wished they were bigger. He wished she had tits more like her sister, and that was it. The thought of Maggie's perfect round bouncing tits pushed him over the edge.

He pulled away and finished himself off, spilling himself on her lower back. He rested on his heels, catching his breath and looking for something to clean her off with. "Hang on," he said. He found a scrap of clothing, but by then some of his cum had run down into the crack of her ass. Daryl had a thought. He grabbed an asscheek in each hand in spread them, wiping up some semen with his right thumb and smearing it on her asshole, rubbing small circles on her little pink hole. 

"What are you doing?" she asked, turning her head to look over her shoulder at him.

He smiled, pushing his dirty thumb in up to the first joint. "Daryl!" she cried out, pulling away. He chuckled.

"If we had some slick I could fuck you in the ass," he told her, handing her the rag.

"Oh." She wiped herself off and pulled up her pants. He laughed again.

"Well you wouldn't have to worry about getting pregnant, would ya?" She looked slightly terrified, though she gave him a small brave smile.

And just like that, fucking Beth Greene in the rear became Daryl Dixon's mission in life. He took to rifling through houses, looking for some lube or, hell, even a bucket of Crisco. At night he ate her out and fingered her until she was wet, and then would slide his slick finger into her ass. At first just one, and then day by day she grew more pliant beneath him, and it became two fingers, then three.

By the time they found themselves in a clean little funeral home he was burning hot for her, sure she would be able to take him now. They sat eating the small feast they had found, and he stared at her, hungrily. "You clean?" he asked roughly.

She nodded. He was used to his vulgar nature now. "Well. Clean as I can be without, you know, soap and running water."

He grunted. "Take your clothes off, I'm ready."

She looked once at the food still on her plate, then pushed it away and stood. She began undressing, casting him the occasional nervous glance. He tilted his chair back, laced his fingers behind his head, and just watched.

She was used to this now too. She was used to behind naked or at least partially exposed while he kept his clothes on. He never undressed for sex. He only unzipped his pants, whipped it out, and did what he needed to, and zipped back up. That first night together in the hotel he had taken off his shirt, but never again after. It wasn't safe, he always said. It wasn't safe for them both to be undressed, in case something happened, in case a walker or a stranger came. In case he needed to protect her, in case he needed to fight.

She believed him.

In reality he didn't want to get too close to her. He didn't want to be her lover. He didn't want this to be...intimate. There was too much of his life and soul etched across his body, and he didn't open himself up to no one. Nah. Especially not the girl he was fooling around with.

When she was naked she sat on his lap and they kissed. He stuck a hand between her legs and rubbed her. He wanted to get her good and turned on.  
"Bend over the table," he whispered to her.

"Okaaaay," she said slowly, standing up and pushing some dishes aside before laying her top half on the table top.

"Spread your legs more," he demanded. She obeyed, opening herself up more, a move that forced her up on her tiptoes. 

Daryl stood back, admiring the scene. "Ohhh, damn girl. Wish I could take a picture of this." She was a sight, and he kneeled before her, licking her pussy and dipping his tongue inside her. She gasped in surprise. Over the last few weeks he had learned just how to touch her. He knew just where to put his tongue, his lips, his fingers, to make her moan and tremble. He could draw out her orgasm in minutes, or tease her like he was doing now, letting her desire build until she was gasping his name with need. Daryl felt like he could drown easily, his face pushed into her most intimate places, her juices soaking his beard and running down his chin. 

"Daryl...please, I need..." She was breathless and semi-coherent, her legs shaking with the effort of holding her own weight. He let her hover on the edge a few moments longer, before replacing his tongue with the firm pressure of his rough fingertips. She swore as she came, a habit that never failed to delight him.

She tried to stand up but he gently pressed his palm into her back. "Not yet, honey, you know what I'm fixin to do." Her head to the side, cheek pressed against the table, she nodded, squinching her eyes shut. 

He stood behind her, rubbing himself in her wetness along her slit. "Ready?"

"What are you going to use?"

"Grape jelly," he said, reaching for the jar.

"What?" There was a note of panic in her voice.

"It'll work, trust me."

"Daryl I don't want to do this," she said quickly, the words rushing from her mouth like water breaking through a dam. He froze for a moment, then slowly sat down the jar. He backed away slightly. "I'm sorry. I just..." She stood up and turned around to face him.

She moved to kiss him and he turned his face away. "Daryl don't be mad. There's a couch in the other room. I thought maybe instead we could..."

What was she saying? Surely she didn't mean? She grasped his leather vest, running her thumbs on it nervously.  
"I want you. The right way. Okay?" He smiled sadly. How could he tell her? She had no idea that there was nothing about this was right. That her and him together was all wrong.

"Okay," he choked out. He allowed her to lead him across the hall. There was a little couch in there, she was right. "You don't wanna fuck in the coffin?" he joked.

"Daryl," she laughed his name. The arrow twisted. She was kissing him, tugging at his clothes. Ah. The right way. Yes. He undressed for her as she laid back on the sofa. They were totally naked together for the first time. He kissed her, lowering his body onto hers.

"You sure?" he asked, positioning himself at her entrance. She nodded.

"I'm sure." And he slid himself inside her, the sweet feeling of her wetness around him drowning out everything else in the world, and the words she spoke next were a distant hum in the background. He was inside her, he was moving inside her, and she was tight and wet and perfect around him. He was moaning, he knew. He was cursing, he knew. She was holding on to him. She was touching his scars, he knew. But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered but the building feeling inside him. He was close, so close.  
He tried to pull out of her, but she locked her legs around him. "Beth stop!" he cautioned.

"It's okay, it's okay," she was saying, and in that moment he believed her. And she was drawing him in and he was tumbling over the edge, spilling himself inside her.

A few moments passed and he realized it wasn't okay at all. It was stupid and foolish thing she had done. Still, it was done, and there was nothing he could say to undo it. He rolled himself off of her, and got dressed.

"Did you hear what I said?" she asked. He was annoyed with her. He was angry at himself. He was tired, far too tired. "I said I love you, Daryl."

"Go to sleep Beth," he mumbled, feeling the arrow shred his insides.

Sometime later they sat at the small table once again, picking at the meal they had not quite finished earlier.

"What changed your mind?" he asked her. "You know, about...what we did?" She shrugged.

"I just feel safe with you. If it happened, it would be okay. We could have a baby together. I love you."

Daryl swallowed hard. He should say it. He should say it even though he knew it wasn't the same for him as it was for her. He should say it because maybe it would make her happy, and he wanted to make her happy, and wasn't that close enough?

"Daryl...do you love me?" she asked. The question hung in the air. He looked at her expectant face. A noise at the door. She had said she wanted a dog, he would get her a damn dog.  
"I'm gonna give that mutt one more chance..." he said, grabbing one of the pig's feet from the jar.


End file.
